


Fenders, Merabela Style

by runsinthefamily



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:19:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on the kmeme: Two DA characters of your choice roleplay two other DA characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mages and Freedom and Such

**Author's Note:**

> This was, without a doubt, the most fun fic I have ever written. Partway through, the lovely and talented katiebour began writing Love Is A Battlefield in response, and thus a legend was born. /pretentious

"Oooh, where did you get those!?" Merrill bounced up on Isabela's bed as Isabela slid out from behind the changing screen.

"Stole 'em," Isabela said. "He only wears those 'I'm such a renegade' black ones these days anyway." She fluffed up the feathers on her shoulders a bit and then rapped the staff against the floor. "Mages!" she bellowed. "Freedom and Justice and such!"

"Shut up, you abomination," said Merrill, scrambling off the bed to wave a painted finger in Isabela's face. They hadn't been able to find silver paint, not in any price that they could afford, anyway, and so the graceful, scrolling lines were white, but Merrill rather thought she'd done a good job with the tools she'd been given. "I'll chop you up with my great big sword!"

"Well I'll call upon my magic and freeze you in place, unable to twitch a muscle," said Isabela.

"I'll, I'll phase out of your ice and grab you with my ever so pointy gauntlets and never let you go!"

"I'll rain down fire until you're so hot and sweaty you have to strip all your armor off!"

"I'll push you down and thrust my hand into you, touching every secret part that's never been touched, until all you can think about is me, with my phase-y, glowing fingers inside you!"

"Oh, damn," said Isabela. "You're getting good at this." She tossed the staff aside and pulled Merrill in for a kiss. "Nasty, angry, broody elf," she said in between kisses. "You'll regret having raised my ire!"

"Dirty, bad, mage!" panted Merrill. "You'll - oh, Creators, Isabela - you'll never make me kneel!"

"Kneel, is it? I'll show you kneeling!"

"You - you won't make me come!" squealed Merrill as Isabela stripped the borrowed black leggings down. "Not with your electricity thing, or your tongue, or your magic fingers, either!"

"Mmmnnn!" said Isabela, face buried between Merrill's thighs.

"Oh, oh, oh," said Merrill. "Oh, _fuck!_ "

Later, as they lay sweaty and entangled on the bed, white paint and feathers everywhere, Isabela sighed happily and stretched her arms above her head. "This is my very favorite game," she said.

"You like it better than Pirates and Booty?" asked Merrill.

"Oh, yes."

"Sinner and Chantry Sister?"

"Definitely."

"Champion and Arishok?"

"Ye - wait, what?"

"Oh, just a thought I had."

"You minx. Where are we going to get horns that size?"


	2. "Anders" Gets His

"I can't believe we're doing this in Fenris's mansion!" Merrill whispered, shucking the cloak she'd worn to hide her painted limbs.

"You don't have to whisper, kitten, he's off with Hawke on some errand or other down the Wounded Coast, they'll be gone all day." Isabela delved into the bag, hauling out feathered coat and staff and a pair of rings that sparked as she slipped them on.

"Are those ... are those ...?" Merrill reached out and ran a finger along the silver curve of one ring. Tingling ran deliciously up her arm.

"Anders might be a bit of a stick in the mud these days but he's still willing to help a friend in need," said Isabela smugly. "I had him collaborate with Sandal on a very special enchantment. Don't tell Bodahn, he'll think I'm corrupting the boy."

Merrill threw her arms around Isabela and kissed her soundly. "You are the very best girlfriend ..."

Isabela squeezed Merrill's bottom, sending a shiver of magical static up her spine. "Why don't you show your appreciation ... elf?"

"Mmmm ..." said Merrill and then shoved Isabela against the wall. "How dare you manhandle me, you rotten mage?"

"I didn't hear you complaining while I was sparklefingering you," said Isabela.

"You - you aren't the Master of me!" proclaimed Merrill. "I'm not your toy!"

"I could be yours," said Isabela, lowering her lashes and draping herself back against the wall in a way that made Merrill almost forget what they were doing.

"You, you, um ... by the Dread Wolf, Isabela, you look so ..."

Isabela's teasing smile turned warm and tender for a moment. "Stay in the game, kitten," she said.

"Right." Merrill shook herself a bit. "You!" she said and shook a fist in Isabela's direction. "Think twice before you put yourself in my power, wretched mage. I will not be gentle."

"I'm not asking for gentle," said Isabela.

"I hate you," said Merrill, pressing Isabela against the wall with her whole body.

"I hate you more."

"Everything you are is vile!"

"You're nothing but an animal!"

"Abomination!"

"Bigot!"

"Uh, uh," Merrill searched frantically for some Arcanum, "Venhedis!"

"Oh, Maker, fuck me! Fuck me now!"

Later, as they carefully re-untidied Fenris's bed to approximate the layout of scattered blankets and pillows he'd left, Merrill pursed her lips. "It smells of sex in here, Isabela. He's going to know!"

"Oh, let him," said Isabela. "Maybe it'll cheer him up a bit."

"Oh!" said Merrill. "Then we should do it in the clinic next time, because Anders is very very grim these days."

"This is why I love you, kitten," said Isabela. "Always thinking of others."


	3. Secrets Revealed!

"I thought we were going to the clinic," said Merrill as they crept through the cellars.

"I came across an opportunity not to be missed," said Isabela. She bent to the lock of a heavy door, picked it easily, and eased it open. Beyond lay Hawke's main hall, deserted and dim.

"We shouldn't be here," Merrill hissed. "Not like this! Bodahn will catch us, and I'm all painted up, Isabela!"

"He's out shopping with Sandal," said Isabela, strolling in like she owned the place. "Hawke took the dog with him to hang out with Aveline and train some recruits, poor bastards. Aveline and a mabari. They're going to wet their drawers."

Merrill ran her fingers along the banister, feeling the smooth silky wood. Hawke's house was so nice.

"C'mon kitten," said Isabela. "If we get caught, I'll take the blame."

Merrill bit her lip, grinned, and tossed off her cloak. "Alright, but I want to change the game a bit."

"Oh, really," said Isabela, settling the pauldrons.

"Yes. I think you'll like it." Merrill shook her bangs across her face, curled up her lip and glared at Isabela. "Mage! Ever since you made me scream and moan and come four times in a row and let me spank you just a little bit I can't stop thinking about you," she said. "What foul magic is this!"

Isabela's eyes lit up. "Magic?" She knocked Merrill's hand away. "Only an emotionally stunted yet gorgeous idiot like you would think that simple, gutwrenching, toe tingling lust was a spell. You want me! Admit it!"

"It's wrong," said Merrill. "It's oh so wrong because you're everything I hate!"

"You don't hate this, do you?" Isabela slid her fingers into Merrill's hair.

"No - yes!"

"Or this?" A wet tongue against her ear, tracing it to the very tip.

"Uh, ah ... yes, I hate that quite a lot."

"What about this?" Isabela cupped Merrill gently through her leggings and squeezed ever so slowly. Her ring sparked and Merrill gasped.

"Why can't I stay away from you and your sexy magic?"

"Why can't I forget about your broody, pouty lips?"

"Let's go have sex in Hawke's bed!"

"Good idea!"

Much, much later, as they dozed in the wreckage of Hawke's four poster, Merrill stirred but did not wake as the door downstairs opened and then shut. The noise of bickering made its way across the hall and up the stairs, the words 'mage' and 'elf' and 'ignorance' and 'abomination' punctuating the argument at intervals.

Isabela's brow creased as the argument paused in front of the bedroom door, intensified, and then culminated in the slamming of the door back against the wall as a thrashing, sparking Anders was shoved backward into the room by a glowing, snarling Fenris.

"Hawke, get this elf off ...!"

"Hawke, tell your pet mage that ...!"

Isabela exploded into motion, snatching her daggers from the nightstand and rolling off the bed into combat stance, clad in nothing but Anders's old grey pauldrons, now much bedraggled.

Merrill let out a short shriek, fell off the bed on the other side and stuck her head up, goggle eyed. The white paint on her chin was very smeared, but still quite obviously patterned after Fenris's lyrium.

Everybody froze.

"Well," said Isabela after a while. "This is awkward."

"Oh, Creators," said Merrill and disappeared behind the bed.


	4. Embarrassing Admissions!

"What is going on?" asked Fenris slowly. He looked at the bed, at Isabela, at the tuft of dark hair that was all anyone could see of Merrill.

Anders said nothing at all, only regarded Isabela with narrowed eyes.

She sighed, straightened up, tried to sheath her daggers only to realize that her harness was draped over the fireplace and, shrugging, flicked them across the room into Hawke's practice dummy. "What does it look like?" she said.

"So that's where my old robes went," said Anders. "I have to say, Isabela, you're not taking very good care of them." He folded his arms, a smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth.

"But they look so much better on me," she returned, stroking one hand down her flank. Both Anders and Fenris followed the gesture with their eyes.

"You do realize you are naked," Fenris said.

"Mmm," said Isabela. "Say 'naked' again."

"Isabela!" came Merrill's frantic cry from the floor.

"Alright, look," she said. "Can you give us a minute to get ourselves together? Merrill's a bit bodyshy."

"She was painted," said Fenris, growing outrage in his voice. "Painted up like - like _me_. For you to have sex?"

Anders laughed out loud.

Merrill popped her head up again, face wiped clean. "I was starting to think that you'd forgotten how to do that, Anders."

"For you to have sex while dressed like _him_?" Fenris continued.

Anders laughed louder, had to put a hand against the fireplace to support himself.

"You," Fenris growled, leveling a finger at Isabela. "You are the ones who debauched my mansion. I was smelling musk for days!"

"Oh, dear," said Merrill.

"What, are you fucking your way through Hightown?" Anders choked out. "Dressed as, dressed as ..." he lost it again.

"No!" said Merrill, indignant. "It was Isabela's idea! You know, thematic locations."

"Wait," said Anders, his laughter dying. "And you came to Hawke's place? Why didn't you debauch the clinic? Why didn't I get to smell musk?"

"We were going to," said Merrill earnestly, standing up. "I wanted to, but Isabela said -" She suddenly realized they were all looking at her, now, looked down at her naked, paint-smeared body and dropped back to the floor with a squeak.

"We could come by later this week, if it means so much to you," said Isabela, folding her arms.

"You are alright with this, this perversion?" Fenris demanded. "I will not be made mock of!"

"We're not hurting anyone," said Isabela, rolling her eyes.

"Oooh, I knew this was a bad idea!" said the floor.

"To, to pretend, even in this ridiculous fashion, that I would ever, with a mage, with _this_ mage, is, is ..." Fenris sputtered, colour rising in his cheeks.

Isabela's eyebrows lifted. "Well, aren't you worked up about it?"

"Yes, aren't you?" said Anders.

"You should be too!" Fenris barked. "It's an affront! An invasion of, of ..."

Anders stepped in, took Fenris's face in his hands, and kissed him.

"Mmmmf!" said Fenris.

"Mmmmmm...." said Anders.

"Andraste's. Holy. Underpants," said Isabela.

"What's happening?" said the floor.

"My eyes are having an orgasm," said Isabela.

Merrill stuck her head up again. "Fen'harel's balls," she said in a low, awed voice.

Mage and elf grappled in front of the fireplace, hands working through hair, arms twining, small, desperate sounds of passion escaping their sealed lips.

"Should we, um, maybe we should go?" asked Merrill, standing up with a sheet wrapped around her.

"Whoa!" Isabela sidestepped the pair as they fell onto the bed. "And miss this? The hell you say!"

An arm, glowing with lyrium, lifted out of the tangle and pointed emphatically at the door.

Merrill scurried.

"But ... just for a bit? C'mon, please?" begged Isabela, ever so slowly backing away.

A wall of ice swept across the room, making her leap for safety. The door slammed shut on a wave of force.

"Selfish bastards!" she shouted through the door.

She turned, caught Merrill's eye, and then they both dissolved into giggles.

"Best game," said Merrill.

"Ever," agreed Isabela.


End file.
